


Ice Sculptures

by ellalightwood



Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 18:50:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13254483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellalightwood/pseuds/ellalightwood
Summary: An extremely cheesy story from my Tumblr (hermionejohannalightwood) with no plot whatsoever. Aline creates an ice sculpture of Helen. They kiss. That's basically it.





	Ice Sculptures

The seraph blade glowed as Aline put the finishing touches to her ice sculpture. The heat of the blade warmed her fingers, which would otherwise have become red and numb in the freezing cold. She had been out here for hours, waving away Helen’s offerings of hot chocolate and coffee and attempts to lure her back inside, into the warmth of their tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere. When Helen had asked her what she was working on, she had merely said “Wait and see.” She wanted it to be a surprise – it was Helen’s birthday, after all. 

Helen had been on the phone to her siblings all morning, pacing around the living room in slippers and a dressing gown as she gave Julian various bits of advice and listened to Dru’s excited chatter. She talked to them every week without fail, sometimes rushing back to the cottage worrying that she had missed their call. Sometimes Aline got to talk to them – Julian would thank her for taking care of his sister, Ty would give her a detailed description of some new species of caterpillar he’d found, Livvy would ask her when they were getting married.

Aline stepped back to admire her work. In the two years since Helen had been exiled to Wrangel Island and Aline had gone to join her, Aline had managed to perfect the art of ice sculpting. She had done quite a few sculptures of famous scenes from Shadowhunter history: The Angel Raziel rising out of a lake, Jonathan Shadowhunter with the Mortal Sword raised above his head, an Iron Sister crafting the very first seraph blade. This, however, was the first time she had sculpted Helen. She had wanted to make sure that her sculptures were perfect before attempting to capture Helen’s beauty in ice.   
She had chosen to sculpt Helen perched on a rock, looking out to an imaginary sea. A dress rippled down her body, the skirt parting at the front to reveal her slender legs. Aline hoped she had successfully managed to convey the wistful smile on Helen’s face, and that she had done justice to Helen’s long, curling hair and full, soft lips and the pointed ears that marked her as only half a Shadowhunter – though, Aline thought, Helen was more Nephilim than half of the Clave. 

Finally, Aline strode towards the house, tucking her seraph blade back into her coat. She let herself in through the back door, stripping her coat off and welcoming the rush of warm air and the escape from the bitter frost outside. She heard the clatter of china from the kitchen, and the hissing of a kettle, and moved towards the noise, suddenly craving a hot drink.   
Helen was sitting at the kitchen table, her phone on the table in front of her and her head in her hands. She was wearing a cute green cashmere sweater and pale blue girlfriend jeans, her honey-coloured curls pulled into a ponytail. Aline observed, not for the first time, that Helen was undoubtedly the most beautiful girl in the whole world, and anyone who thought otherwise was a fool. She looked up as Aline entered, flashing a quick, unconvincing smile.  
“Baby?” Aline sat down beside her, squeezing her hand. “Is everything okay?”  
Helen sighed. “Your mother says we can go home. Get married.”   
“Oh. That’s great!” Aline frowned. “Isn’t it?”  
“We’ll only be allowed home temporarily.” Helen grimaced. “And, in exchange, the Clave wants me to visit the Academy and teach the kids all about evil, treacherous, bloodthirsty faeries.” 

Aline realised the situation at once, and felt indignant on behalf of her fiancée. The Clave wanted to use Helen as an example, to parade her around the young Shadowhunters-in-training and the mundanes who had applied for Ascension, to humiliate her in front of everyone simply because her mother was not Nephilim, simply because her father had fallen in love with a faerie. “I won’t let them do it. They can’t – they can’t treat you like this. It’s cruel and wrong. I’ll – I’ll talk to Mom―”  
Helen shook her head. “There’s nothing you can do, nothing I can do, nothing Jia can do. I talked to her just now. The Clave is adamant. It’s this or nothing. If I refuse, we won’t be allowed to get married. I won’t get to see my brothers and sisters.” She turned to look at Aline. “It’ll be worth it. A small price to pay, to get to spend the rest of my life with you. My wife.” 

She leaned for a kiss, and their lips met. Aline’s hands caressed Helen’s cheeks as she savoured the taste of Helen’s vanilla lipgloss, and then ran down to hook themselves around her neck. Helen’s tongue traced Aline’s bottom lip, sending a shiver down her spine. The kiss was swift and sweet, and they broke apart reluctantly. Aline suddenly found that she had no need for a hot drink.   
“I’ve told Jia that I agree to the Clave’s terms,” Helen murmured. “And I’ve texted Jules to let him know. Magnus Bane is going to Portal me to Idris tomorrow.”  
“I’ll go with you,” Aline offered. She was still holding Helen’s hand; she ran her thumb over the Penhallow ring on Helen’s fourth finger. “You don’t need to go through this alone.”   
Helen shook her head. “That wasn’t part of the deal. The Clave agreed to let us be married if I went to give a talk at the Academy. They didn’t say anything about you.” She looked sorrowful. “You can come to Idris with me before the wedding, to plan it out and get fitted for a dress. Jia says she will be happy to be your suggenes.”   
“Alright.” Aline pulled Helen close for another kiss. “I almost forgot – there’s something I wanted to show you.”  
Helen smiled, standing up and following Aline out of the kitchen. “Are you about to tell me where you’ve been all morning?”  
“Maybe.” 

Aline shrugged on her coat and Helen followed suit. They battled their way through the blistering cold winds, towards the place where Aline had created her first sculpture of Helen. They stood before it, the wind biting at their exposed faces. The sculpture was a little taller than the real Helen, and Aline worried that she had got the shape of Helen’s nose and chin wrong. But, she reflected, there was nothing to be done about that now.   
“Happy birthday,” she said, squeezing Helen’s slim fingers with her own. Helen was staring, apparently awestruck, at the sculpture. She turned to smile at Aline.  
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.  
“You’re beautiful,” Aline responded, to which Helen snorted in amusement.  
“Come here, you cheesy old romantic…”  
Moments later, they stood there still, oblivious to the biting cold, content to simply be there with each other, to share this moment together. Tomorrow, Helen would leave for the Academy, and Aline would have to occupy herself and count down the hours until Helen’s return, but for now they had each other, and that was enough.


End file.
